One Last Time (Book 1)
by Hadley Eckstrom
Summary: (CIVIL WAR AU) With her daughters, Mary Daniels struggles after receiving the news that her husband, Justin Daniels died at Gettysburg. But as a woman, she faces losing the farm and animals her husband left with her, and their daughters. Rated M: sexual content, language, violence
1. Prologue: It Hurts to Say Goodbye

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Justin quickly pulled out of his very heated kiss with Mary. Pulling the sheets up, he went to cover both of their naked bodies. After which, he laughed as he rolled off of Mary and turned towards their door. "Come on in, girls!" He called.

Two small girls ran in with the biggest smiles reaching their face. One was a red-haired girl with blue eyes, the other a brown-haired girl with violet eyes. The red-haired girl, Ida, was the oldest, at six years old, and the blonde, Ethel, was three. In her arms, Ida carried a baby girl, Sallie. Sallie was six months old and had black hair and green eyes.

Sitting up a little on the bed, not letting the sheets fall past his hips, Justin held his arms out and helped Ethel into the bed. Then he helped Ida, and took Sallie into his arms. "Good morning, sweethearts." He greeted them as he gave a kiss to the top of each of their heads. Wrapping an arm around Mary, he held all four of his girls close and sighed in content.

"Are you going to take me riding today, daddy? You promised me, last night, that you would." Ida asked excitedly. She was a beautiful girl, and had even been deemed a much beautiful baby, as an infant. They had no clue where she got her red hair and blue eyes; it was one mystery that they figured made her that much more unique. And they loved her for her uniqueness.

He beamed over at his oldest and poked her nose playfully. "Well if I promised, don't you think I'd take you riding? Since when has your daddy ever made a promise he can't keep?"

Mary chuckled and stroked Ida's hair with loving fingers. "One of the many wonderful qualities about your father, Ida, is that he has never made a promise that he cannot keep. He's a smart man, not a dumb one." She told the girl.

Justin scoffed teasingly. "Wow, thank you for that backhanded compliment, love. Girls, I love your mother with all my heart, but she is very good with giving compliments in backhanded ways." He saw the look on his wife's face and gulped slightly. "I-I mean…uh…thank you very much, dear?" He suggested with a crooked smile as though saying, please, just don't hurt me.

She laughed outright and shook her head. "I wasn't going to punch you, Jus. And even if I wanted to, I still wouldn't; not while you have the baby." She reminded him.

He sighed in relief and pressed his lips to Sallie's head. "You saved your old man's hide, Sal." He said gratefully. Then he looked back toward Ida, remembering their conversation before. "We'll go out riding, after breakfast, Ida. Speaking of, whatcha say we get up and make something for these munchkins, dear?" He said to Mary.

She hummed. "I suppose we should. How bout you get it started, and I'll feed Sal?"

"Sure." He agreed. He was just about to get up, when he remembered the state he and Mary were in. He blushed lightly, glaring at his wife's sly smile. "Ida, Ethel, why don't you two go get dressed while mommy and daddy get ready?" He suggested to his daughters.

The girls ran out eagerly, their messy hair swooshing around them. Then they closed the bedroom door as they ran out.

After they were gone, Mary barked a laugh, while Juatin glared playfully at her. "Oh shut up." He mumbled while leaning in and kissing her collarbone softly.

But she swatted his head, making him pull back and give her a confused look. "I have to feed the baby, and you need to start breakfast for our other two girls." She reminded him with a smiled. At his despondent face, she kissed him softly and ruffled his hair. "Later, lover boy."

He grinned slyly, stroking her arm with such softness. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart." Then he rolled out of bed, albeit reluctantly, and went to dress. After which, he left to head for the kitchen to make breakfast.

As he stood at the old stove, his two oldest daughter came bounding in, their long hair still a mess and in need of help. He laughed as he put the spoon with which he was using to make porridge down and knelt in front of them. "You girls need me to do your hair?" He asked as he stroked each of their heads.

Justin and Mary had gotten married when they were fourteen and nineteen. There was no doubt in Justin's parents' mind that their son was in love, and that Mary was in love with him. Mary had fallen in love with him for more than just his looks though. She'd found out, early on, that he was able to cook and clean, unlike many of the suitors that had begged her for her hand since her father's death, when she was twelve. Justin was different though.

His ability to cook and clean made her one happy woman, when they married. And a year later they had Ida. As she began to grow hair, and it grew longer, Mary was pleased to discover more of her husband's hidden talents. He could do hair. He had offered to do hers on numerous occasions, but she had always insisted on doing it herself. But as Ida grew, and she was left tired, Justin had stepped in to do whatever his daughter needed. He could dress her, change her diapers, do her hair, everything. And now, he had two daughters to do that with; which they both loved when he did their hair.

Ida nodded and held out two leather bands for him. Turning them around, he used the wooden hair brush to gently pry out the nasty knots in their beautiful hair. Then he but them into loose braids. After that, he grabbed some flowers that Mary always kept on the table, and put them into random spots of the braids. "There we go. There's my beautiful girls." He said pridefully as he touched each of their cheeks and placed light kisses on their foreheads.

The girls each giggled and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, daddy." They said unanimously. Picking up the ends of their dresses, they raced to the table and climbed up on the chairs that were still to big for them. Justin helped them up and then went back to making breakfast.

Mary came in, not long later, Sallie in her arms, dressed in a thick dress to keep her from the bitter cold that threatened them during the winter months. Mary herself wore a simple, beat up, blue dress with an apron over top. Her hair was loose, with only parts of the front being pulled back into a small braid.

That's when Justin set breakfast in front of everyone. They'd had nothing but porridge for the past few weeks, but, unfortunately, that was all they could afford at the moment. Justin had lost his job at the sawmill several months ago, because of the impact of the war that had just started not even half a year ago. The Civil War, as they called it. They were at war with their own countrymen. It was sad to see it come to this, and see the effects it cause. Because of it, Justin had lost his job, and they had been reduced to nothing more than rations of food.

She looked over at Justin with a soft, hopefully encouraging smile. She knew that losing his job had struck him right in the gut. His pride was, without a doubt, damaged. With great struggle, she had managed to get him to admit that he felt like a failure as a husband and a father, because he lost his job. He felt unable to provide for his own family; to him, that was something worse than death. All he wanted was to give his wife and young daughters a good home, good clothes, and good food. Now, he couldn't even do that. It took its toll on him, and she could see it in the way he had started to age from the stress of the last few months.

They were doing all they could for the time being. She would eat little, but still a substantial amount so that she could provide milk for Sallie, and he would hardly eat anything. He had started losing a significant amount of weight, which he and Mary could only hope the girls hadn't noticed. She had also lost a great deal amount of weight, but still not quite as much as him. Even their daughter, Ida and Ethel, had begun losing weight because of the food shortage.

He looked around at his family, as he always did at breakfast and dinner, and felt his heart break once more. His wife's face, while beautiful as he would always find her and know her to be, was shallow, and dark bags lined under her eyes. She looked so…empty. His daughters looked weaker than they once were. They used to be so lively; and while they would still run around and play, they couldn't last as long as they once did. One of his favorite things to do, had been to watch his little girls run and play. They were like fairies, when they ran through the tall, summer grass. So beautiful. So enchanting. Now it seemed there was only a sliver of those girls left in the daughters he'd raised.

Then there was Sallie. She was smaller than most six month old babies. She'd been born at nine months, she just wasn't getting the necessary nourishing most babies needed. She was healthy, but looked so torn down compared to most, healthier, six month olds.

He hated seeing his family so broken up. As a man especially, it hit him right where it hurts. His girls were the most important treasures in his world, and taking care of them felt more like an honor than a duty. To have that honor suddenly taken, and to not be able to give his girls anything more than grits and moldy bread as meals, was about the cruelest thing for him. Now they were suffering, and there was nothing her, or anyone else, could do about it.

Mary, seeing the heartbreak that was all but written on his face, reached across the table to take his hand in her own smaller one. With her eyes, she told him that it was alright. They were together. They had each other. That was all that mattered. And she was right; he knew that. but deep in his heart, he couldn't help that feeling of letting them all down, even though it hadn't been his fault that he was fired.

As the family finished their breakfast in silence, Mary got up and cleared their pans. Meanwhile, Justin grabbed his hat and rifle and ruffled little Ida's red hair. "You ready to go, half pint?" He asked with a broad, loving smile.

Ida jumped up excitedly and bounced on the balls of her feet. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" She squealed. A laugh slipped past her lips when he placed another hat on her head as well. It was a bit too big, and fell slightly over her forehead. But she smiled wider and pushed it back up.

"I wanna go, papa!" Ethel said hopefully, lifting her arms toward her father.

He chuckled and picked her up. "When you're a little older, sweetheart." He told her and kissed her brown head.

She pouted, crossing her arms. And he couldn't get over how much she looked like Mary when she pouted. Other than those violet eyes, of course, she was her mother's spitting image. "Why does Ida get to do everything?"

"She's older, Ethel. I know it ain't fair, hon, but I promise that we'll go riding together when you're a little bit older. Alright?" He didn't like disappointing either of his older daughters – Sallie of course being hard to displease because she was only six months old – but he also couldn't take major risks. He hadn't taken Ida out riding when she was three, and he wouldn't do that with Ethel or Sallie either. And she might not have found it fair at the time, but he knew Ethel would understand one day.

She was still pouting, but nodded anyway. "Ok, daddy." Kissing his cheek, she wiggled out of his arms and went to play in the small family room.

Mary came forward then and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Be careful?" She whispered.

He smiled and nodded. "Of course, darlin'. And I'll bring our daughter back in one piece." He promised, making them both laugh. Then he leaned in and kissed her lips chastely. "I love you." He mumbled against her lips. Then pulling away, he stooped down to scoop Ida up into his strong arms. "You ready to go, baby?" He asked, nudging his nose against her soft cheek.

She giggled and kissed his cheek. That was answer enough for her father, as he turned for the door. A last look back, and he left with Ida snug against him. Within minutes, he had his horse, Bobbie, ready and saddled. Then he saddled Mary's horse, Mosey. Picking Ida back up, under her arms, he lifted her up and set her in Mosey's saddle.

Father and daughter spent hours riding the deserted plains of Braiden, which was part of the Dakota Territory. For miles, there was nothing but sage brush and wild grass. The air was fresh, and clean. To Justin, that was the best thing about living in the Dakota Territory, rather than the big cities. And he couldn't be any happier to be raising his own family in such a beautiful land.

As they rose through the plain, over the hills, and through the tufts of rolling grass that danced with the wind, he watched his daughter with a proud smile. While she looked like no one in their family, he couldn't help but admire all of their qualities that fit into her. She was as close to perfect as one could ever be. While she made mistakes, she was quick to try and make up and apologize for those mistakes. And she was quick to forgive too. She never once held a grudge, and for that, everyone was grateful. Being on her bad side was never fun.

She fit into this life, better than most. This was the life she wanted. So many times, since she was old enough to speak, she had crawled up into his lap and told him that she loved the life of the prairie. It's like living in a fairy-tale, she would tell him. And she knew not only the magical parts of the prairie, but also the dangers of it. She knew the harshness the winters could bring. She knew to watch for mountain lions, and rattle snakes, and scorpions. She knew how to test whether a berry was safe to eat, or deadly poisonous. She knew it all, and still, she loved it. She loved all te harsh realities that came with a beautiful land.

She wasn't like all the other girls, he well knew. While other girls loved dresses, or butterflies, she preferred to spend her time learning how to survive the rough life of the prairie. Justin and Mary had agreed, before they even had children, that any daughters they had needed to be taught how to handle themselves. They couldn't always depend on a man. Mary already knew what that was like.

Her father had been a drunk her whole life. Her mother was meek, and never spoke for herself. Being raised mainly by her mother, Mary had been much the same, for years. When her mother died, when she was seven, nothing changed. She remained the quiet girl that never spoke up to her father. She could hardly take care of herself, and knew little to nothing about the wilderness.

Her father had never cared, though. He turned a blind eye as to Mary's well-being. The only times he would acknowledge her was to tell her to cook, or clean, or to mend his clothes. She was more of a slave to him, than a daughter. And when he finally drank himself to death, he left nothing behind for Mary to live a good life from. She didn't know how to work the small farm she lived on; her father didn't believe in women working anywhere else but in the house.

Being thrown, so suddenly, into the cruel world that she'd never had to think of before had a big impact on Mary. Being only twelve years of age, she was nothing more than a scared orphan that was terrified by the sudden new world. she had to teach herself the ropes. No one was there to guide her. And when she met and married Justin, she vehemently told him that she didn't want her own daughters to go through that, should anything happen to one, or both of them.

He was quick to agree, telling her that he believed women should know the rules of the wild. He didn't think it fair to see women suddenly left on their own, when their husband, father or brother died, and having little to no clue on how to handle themselves. That was no life, for any woman. And he couldn't, as a father and a husband, live himself in knowing that if he didn't leave behind those rules with his women, something much worse could happen to them than if they did know. And as a man that loved his family more than anything, he'd be damned if he let anything happen to them because he didn't give them the tools necessary to survive.

He had just started teaching Ethel, as well. While she was a bit confused by the lessons, she knew that when her father was trying to teach her something important, it was for a good reason. She paid very close attention to him, as she often did with a lot of things.

Now, watching Ida smiling with rosy cheeks, and her loose hair drift with the cool winter's breeze, he couldn't help but imagine her as she grew. He visioned a beautiful young girl, riding merrily through the fields. A girl that didn't care what society had to say about her unorthodox upbringing. A girl that didn't need to depend on a man to take care of her. A strong, able-minded girl. It was nothing short of amazing.

They returned at dusk, having had a most enjoyable time. He was just helping her off of Mosey, when he saw Mary walking towards them, a despondent look on her beautiful face. Frowning, he crouched in front of Ida and adjusted her hat slightly. "Why don't you go on inside, Ida. Mommy and daddy will be in shortly." He told her. She obediently did as she was told.

As Mary neared him, he was troubled to see tears in her red eyes. She'd been crying a while, already. but why, he wondered? She was the strongest person he knew, and she hardly ever cried. When she did cry, though, it was usually for something serious. She cried when he lost his job. She cried when they lost their baby boy, William, two years ago. Those were the only times. Two times, in their seven years of marriage, and he'd only seen her cry twice.

As soon as she was close enough, he wrapped her in a loving embrace. "Hey. Hey. What's wrong? What's wrong, baby?" He mumbled in her ear. "Mary?" He pulled away and held her cheeks in his gentle hands. "What's the matter, dearest?" He rubbed his thumbs under her eyes to push away the nasty tears that lined her cheekbones.

She didn't say anything, just handed him a crumpled piece of paper.

He furrowed his brows as he took the paper. Unfolding it, he read over the content carefully, and slowly. Neither he, nor Mary had been taught to read or write, as children. They had to teach themselves after they were married. Though they were better at it, they still encountered trouble. But understanding what was in the letter was no trouble for him. The words were clear as day.

"I've been called to war. I leave first thing tomorrow."

She released a sob when he said it aloud. And once again, she fell into his arms. He was still in shock, but quickly began to cry along with her. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening, he tried to tell himself. But the sound of his wife's cries clearly told him that it was happening. He was going to war. He was leaving his wife and three daughters behind. He cried into her shoulder, and held her tighter than ever before, stroking her soft hair.

"What are we going to tell the girls?" She whispered into his chest.

He shook his head and kissed her neck. "We're going to tell them the truth; that I've been called to join the war. There's no avoiding this, Mary. We can't lie to them." And she agreed.

Going inside, they both called the girls from their room, and Justin beckoned them to sit on his lap. He and Mary shared similar glances as they struggled with just how to tell their daughters that daddy had to go away. They didn't sugar-coat it. They told them everything.

"Ida, Ethel…you two know that all I want is to protect you, and make sure you're safe, right? Because you, and Sallie, and mommy are the most important things to me." Justin started. When they nodded, he pulled them even closer and stroked their soft cheeks. "Well that's what I'm going to be doing right now. I…I've been asked to join the war. That means I'm going to have to go far away, and make sure no bad people can hurt you, your sister, and mommy."

Ethel shook her head, and her bottom lip quivered, as she threw her chubby arms around his neck. "No, daddy! No! No! No! I don't want them to take you far away!" She cried desperately.

He blinked away tear as he wrapped one arm around her to keep her close. "I don't want to leave either, honey; but I need to protect you. Ethel, if there was another way, sweetheart, believe me I would take it, in a heart beat. But this is the only way I can protect you, your sisters, and mommy." He hated doing this. He may as well have told her that there was a chance he wouldn't be coming back. Her innocence was already damaged. She was to young for this. Ida was to young for this. Ida. "Ida…what are you thinking, darling?"

She was expressionless. It was like she didn't know what to say; and really, she didn't. what could she say? So instead of replying, she scooted up and buried herself in her father's chest. "I love you, daddy." She whispered.

He couldn't hold back the tears that threatened him, not anymore. He let them go as he bent to kiss her head softly. "I love you too, little one. Both of you." He spoke towards Ethel. After they got down and went to try and distract themselves from the heartbreaking moment, Hiccup took little Sallie. She couldn't know what was going on. All she would know was that she would be waking up, looking around for her daddy, and realize he's not there. She would wonder why. And God forbid, if he were to be gone several years, he would come back and she wouldn't even know who he was. His own daughter.

All to suddenly, the Daniels' world was crumbling before them. It was all being shaken, taken away from them within the snap of a finger. He didn't have a choice. It was either leave and stand a chance of coming home, or stay and undergo trial, guaranteeing that he would never see his family again. there was no choice; he was going.

That night, after all the girls were fed and tucked into bed, Justin shut the door of their room, and was immediately met by his wife's passionate lips. It took him no time to respond to her kiss, and wrap his arms around her small frame. Their tears melted against their lips, as he pushed her against the wall, and slid his hands down to hold her hips.

It didn't take long to strip each other of their clothes and for him to lay her on their bed. Heartbreak filled what little space there was between their bodies. As he buried his hands in her disheveled hair, and kissed down her neck, he mumbled words of absolute love and adoration for her. He told her how much she meant to him, how he loved her, how beautiful she was.

When he finally entered her, she held tight to his back, trying to keep back her sobs. But it was all for naught. She dug her fingers into his back, and cried softly into the crook of his freckled shoulder.

He shook his head and shut his eyes tight. "Don't cry. Please don't cry, darling." He said begged with a strangled voice. But he too couldn't hold back his sobs. And as he made love to her, they shared in more than just passion, but also their fear and heartbreak.

Afterwards, they laid silently in each other's arms. Nothing needed to be said, to know what the other was thinking. It all spilled out in the way they made love, and the way they held each other. Nothing could make this better. But for now, being with each other, was all they really needed.

The next morning, they woke the girls up at the crack of dawn. It was time. Mary packed him supplies, enough to last him through several weeks, and they all sat and ate one last meal together. After which, they all bundled up and went out to see him off.

It didn't take him long to prepare a saddle bag, and then to saddle Bobbie. Though he wanted to prolong the time for as long as he could, he knew that it would just make it harder to leave. And he'd never seen a shame in crying, but he also didn't like crying in front of his daughters. But today, he couldn't help it. he was leaving them, potentially to never come back; how was he not to cry?

When all was ready, he turned to his small, but beautiful family. His daughters were quieter than he'd ever seen them. His wife couldn't stop her flow of tear. His youngest daughter was looking at them all curiously, confused to what was going on.

Licking his lips, he knelt down and held out a hand. Ida was quick to come forward and take it. "Ethel, come here, little one." He beckoned gently. She finally came forward, and he pulled her, with Ida, into his embrace. "Now, you two listen; I'm going to be home real soon, ok? I love you. I love you two, so much." He told them over again. Giving them each one last kiss, he stood to take Sallie int his arms. "Oh, Sallie, please remember me, sweet girl. Remember, how much daddy loved you." He kissed her softly then handed her to Ida.

His heart melted when he gazed at his wife, as it always did. But this time was different. He could be saying goodbye to her, forever. He didn't want to lose her, and he knew she didn't want to lose him either. It was an unimaginable thought, for both of them. It was hard to believe, seven years ago, they were fourteen and nineteen and just getting married. Six years ago, they became the parents of a darling daughter. Now they were saying goodbye for an unknown amount of time.

He took a sharp breath when she threw herself into his arms, and he rested his head in the crevice of her neck and shoulder. "I love you, so damn much. Always remember that, Mary." He whispered against her flushed skin.

She nodded wordlessly. "I will. Just, remember that I'm always with you. The girls are always with you. We'll be right here, waiting. I promise."

He sobbed and placed a single kiss on her neck. "One last time. Just one last time. I want to make love to you. I want to ride out with Ida. I want to walk in and watch Ethel playing. I want to see Sallie laugh. One last time. I want to see my family happy together."

All too soon, he was gone. Just like that. and Mary was left holding her crying daughters, as they watched their father ride off into the gloomy sunrise. It would never be the same again, they all knew. Everything, in that moment, had changed.


	2. Chapter 1: We Can Make It, Together

It was a cold and dark day. Wet. Dreary. Certainly, not a day one would wish to be married on. But for them, there wasn't a more perfect day. And they were being married in the church, after all; it wasn't like they had to worry about being rained on, or their entire wedding being ruined, altogether. Nothing could ruin this day for them. Not the weather, not a kink in plans, nothing.

"Do you, Justin Daniels, take this woman, Mary Smith, to be your wife? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, and to honor and respect her, until death do you part?" The priest, who was their good friend, Jacoby, asked with a smile.

Justin beamed, tears in his eyes, as he stared down at Mary, right into her eyes. He didn't even have to think about it. He gulped down the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Then turning to Mary, Jacoby directed the words to her. "Do you, Mary Smith, take this man, Justin Daniels, to be your husband? To have and to hold, to love and to cherish, and to honor and respect him, until death do you part?"

She couldn't help it; her tears fell freely down her unblemished face, as she nodded without a second thought. "I do." She said with a strangled voice. Justin smiled at her confirmation, as if previously afraid that she would change her mind.

"Then, without further wait, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." Jocoby announced with his thick accent weighing heavily throughout the small room.

Not waiting a second longer, Justin slid his hands over Mary's slender hips and pulled her near to him. Smiles lit their faces as they kissed passionately, but still innocently enough while in front of a crowd. Cheers rang through the whole room, as they sealed their marriage officially, finalizing their union as one.

After the marriage ceremony, the crowd hauled over to the bar just across town. For hours, they drank, sang, and danced the day away. When it came time for supper, they all gathered around, the finest mugs, filled to the brim with the best whisky, in their hands. It was time for the bride and groom toasts. Justin's best man, Mark Avery, went first.

"I have known Justin and Mary for most of my life. Separately, of course. But I know that there isn't a couple better suited for each other, than the one right here. Justin, you're my best friend, though I know that, to you, I come in second place of Mary. My friend, you chose well. If only there were more women like Mary out there. And let me say, you deserve the finest. After Catharine broke your heart, I thought you'd never move on. I'm glad you proved me wrong. To Justin and Mary Daniels! May you two live long, and happy together!" He cheered before raising his mug to his lips and taking a long swing, just as everyone else did.

Mary's maid of honor, Leah Cassidy, went next. "Mary, I have seen you struggle through everything in your life, since the day your mother passed. All the things you went through with your father, they were tough. But, they also made you strong. And I couldn't be happier to see you as the strong woman you are now. I know that you will work hard in your marriage. Justin loves you, I think everyone here can see that. What can I say? He has a great taste. To Justin and Mary Daniels! May you know bright and happy days, and always know how lucky you are!" Once again, everyone took a swig of their whisky.

After the bride and groom were toasted, the people went back to dancing, and before to long it was time for the first dance of the newly wedded. Against the wishes of his parents, Justin and Mary had decided they wanted a lively reception; so their first song was The Old Zip Coon. It was a spry dance, one that kept people moving constantly.

Hoots of fun-filled laughter filled the air, as the couple swung around with the biggest smiles. Soon, the whole community joined in, and the room was full of women and men bounding around the spacious bar. Without a doubt, it would be a time for the small town of Berk to always remember. But, for Justin and Mary, the most memorable part came that night.

That was seven years ago, though. All but a faded memory, left in the past.

Present day

She was bleak, weary, and couldn't find it in her heart to smile. She longed for it, yearned for it. all she wanted was to look out at them, running around in the sunlit yard. They were so graceful and beautiful, her two oldest daughters. They had finally cheered up, she just wished she could join in their happiness.

Mary looked behind her, where her youngest was sitting up on the floor with a big smile. So much like her father, she thought. Sallie was, indeed, the spitting image of her war-bound father, all but those green s. She had his face, his nose, his hair and freckles, everything. The Violet eyes had passed over her though, instead being given to little Ethel.

Turning completely to keep a full eye on her daughter, and make sure she didn't wander off, she leaned against her chair and sighed. Resting a hand on the swell of her belly, she rubbed it gently, lovingly. For the hundredth time since Justin left for war, she felt her heart break again. She didn't understand how it was possible to experience heartbreak so many times, in such a short amount of time; all she knew was that she hated it.

Not even a month after Justin left, she discovered that she was once again with child. She was pregnant, with a baby Justin didn't even know about; a baby she wouldn't get to tell him about until he returned. Now, not only would Sallie be estranged from her father, but another baby of theirs wouldn't know him. He would be a total stranger, in the eyes of his own two children.

She was currently seven months along, and her belly was already round and swollen. Women of the town had talked, first thinking she'd had an affair. But when she vehemently told them that that was certainly not the case, that she would never do that to Justin and their girls, the women began to take pity on her. She hated it, but had to admit that their bugging petty was a step up from their thinking she was having an affair.

A hiss brushed past her lips, as she felt a sharp jab to the side of her stomach. "Easy, little one." She whispered, directing it toward the baby inside her. Lately, she hadn't been feeling right. She was throwing up more, and the baby had been much more active than he/she had in the beginning stages of movement. Almost constantly, she felt the baby turning completely around, which just wasn't normal. It worried her, yet she decided not to go to the town doctor.

Just then, a whinny could be heard from down the trail. Mary frowned, as no one ever came this far out of town. Maybe it was a passerby? Someone looking for direction? She didn't know; but taking extra precaution, she grabbed the rifle that had always been kept by the door, and readied it, in case it was a robber, or someone who would harm her or her girls.

Waiting by the porch, rifle readied, she watched as the mounted horse glided toward them. "Girls, come up here, please!" She called to her daughters, and they obeyed without argument. Watching the horse and rider come closer, she could finally see what the person was wearing: blue army jacket, with a blue cap. Gold lined the jacket and cap, and the clothes could be seen as clean. The horse was also well groomed, and it's saddle appeared to be fancy.

She didn't dare to hope, but the closer the rider neared, the more she felt her heart begin to lift. "Justin?" She choked. Closer and closer. Faster and faster, her heart beat. But it suddenly dropped, when the man came to a stop and unmounted. It fell, hitting the dirt ground hard and painfully.

It wasn't Justin.

The man walked up briskly, taking off his cap as he came up the steps. His gaze drifted down to the two girls behind her, clinging to her dress. A tone of sympathy edged his eyes as he slowly lifted them back up to meet Mary's. "Ma'am, I'm sergeant Michael, are you Mary Daniels?" He asked softly.

She forced the lump down her throat and nodded. "That I am. Is-is my husband alright?"

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and closed his eyes briefly. "Mrs. Daniels, I'm…I'm sorry to inform you that yesterday, July 2, 1863, at 5 in the afternoon, your husband was killed on the field of battle at Gettysburg. I'm so sorry for your loss." One last look at her and her daughters, then he turned and left.

Shock filled her at first. Against her will, a sob ripped through her lips, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cry. Slowly dropping her eyes downward, she looked to her daughters. They looked scared, confused, and worried.

"Daddy coming home?" Ethel asked her softly.

The tears raged down her face and she shut her eyes tight for a moment. As best as she could, she knelt down and pulled the girls close to her. "No, Ethel." She whispered. "Daddy's not coming home. He's…he's with the angels, baby." She choked, the lump in her throat growing by the second. Her daughters were too young for this. The pain of losing a parent was difficult no matter what, but none of her children were even through their first decade of life. Her oldest was barely seven.

The small girl had tears in her eyes, and her lip quivered. "Daddy left us forever?" She whimpered.

Mary hated to think of it that way, but what other way was there to explain to her daughters? Unable to say anything, she nodded and pulled her daughters into the safety of her arms. "He loved you girls. So very much. You and your sister were everything to him. And if he were here, right now, he would tell you how much he loves you."

Her heart ached so much though. Sallie wasn't even a year old, and the father she would never remember was gone. The baby growing inside her would never even meet his/her father. He hadn't even known about her pregnancy. Now he would never know. He would never know his youngest daughter. He would never know his unborn child. He would never walk his daughters down the aisle on their wedding days. He'd miss out on his grandchildren being born and growing up. All of that, he would never have a chance to do or see.

…

For several days, the Daniels girls were all in a state of melancholy. Townspeople had stopped by a few times, both to give their condolences, and to offer Mary anything she needed: help with the girls, food for the next few days, someone to talk to, anything. The young widow refused though. She didn't wish for charity, and she thought it best that she be the one to care for the girls, especially through such a time as the news of their father's death.

Ida and Ethel, while still not fully comprehending that their father was gone forever, seemed to understand that something really bad had happened to him. Mary hated seeing it on her daughters; she'd gone through the same thing when she was not much older than Ida. She knew it wasn't fair, on anybody.

It was barely a week after receiving the news, when Mary felt a hard kick to her lower abdomen. At first, she didn't take it to mean anything, just the baby putting up a fuss; but when the kicks increased in severity, she became slightly worried.

Just as she was getting up to make something for the girls to eat, she felt something wet between her legs. Shutting her eyes, not wanting to admit to herself what she already knew was happening, she looked to the ground under her feet. There it was; that small puddle that could only mean one thing: she was in labor.

It's to early, she said in her mind. The same thing had happened with her baby boy a few years ago. She'd gone into early labor, and he only lasted a few minutes after birth. The first thing since her father's death, and it broke her. Losing her child, the child she had carried for six months, the child she felt moving inside her, was the hardest thing. She couldn't go through it again, especially after the heartbreak of losing her beloved husband.

Braving through her fear for the moment, she looked to Ida, holding her stomach tightly. "Idie, I need to to ride Bobbie into town and tell auntie Leah that your baby brother or sister is coming." She said in a steady, but still fearful voice.

The seven year old wasted no time in jumping up from the floor, racing to pull on her coat, and running out the door. She was thankful to know that her father's horse was already saddled up and ready to go. Climbing up, she gripped the reins in shaking hands and gave them a snap.

Only half an hour later, she returned with Leah riding behind her. They slid off their horses, and Leah immediately made a beeline for the house. "Mary!" She called in a panic.

"Back here, Lee!" Mary called back to her best friend. When Leah stood beside her, she took a deep breath and leaned back slightly. "I'm sorry. I know you have to take care of the boys-"

"Mary, Ivan and Timothy are fine. Mark is watching them. What matters is that you're in labor. Now, listen, since you've gone into early labor, you know what we have to do." Leah stroked her friend's hair sympathetically and dabbed her already sweaty forehead. "Let's get you in bed, and I'll do what I can to bring your little one into the world." She guided her over to the bed and helped her lay down.

Hours passed by, and the only thing that seemed to change was the pitch in Mary's screams. They varied from loud, to quiet, to high pitched, and real low. The three girls, Ida, Ethel, and Sallie, all sat in the corner. They worried for their dear mother, as they didn't understand what was going on, but they stayed silent and kept patient.

It was well into the night, and there was still nothing to be gained from the long hours of labor that Mary had endured. She'd been in labor for twelve hours already, and while Leah wasn't expecting her to have delivered by then, she was at least expecting her to be dilating; Mary wasn't even so much as dilating. There was no doubt in the fellow mother's mind, this was going to be a long birthing process.

And so it was. Two days of labor, and still nothing to show for it. Mark eventually had to bring his and Leah's two sons out so that she could help them bathe, as he had no idea how to do it. Throughout the whole two days though, Mary still showed no signs of actually giving birth.

And then the third day came.

It hit them all, like a tornado. It came with piercing screams, and obvious signs that Mary had finally started crowning. For when Leah looked under the blanket that was sprawled over Mary, she could clearly see a head full of black hair. And at that sight, she gave a joyous cry and told Mary that it was time. She shoved everyone else out in the meantime, asking Fabian to watch the children.

That night was long and hard. And in the end, silence filled the small Daniels' residence. It was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. But suddenly, tiny wails came from the room Mary was in. Newborn wails. Leah came in to the family room with a bright smile upon her face. "The baby is good and healthy, though a bit small." Taking Sallie from her husband, she looked to Ida and Ethel. "Your mother is waiting for you. Go on, I'll be there in a minute." She told them softly. She watched them leave before turning back to Mark, who looked worried.

"So?" He said nervously.

Her smile, still, didn't fade. "Healthy baby girl." Her gaze fell then, though, and she looked morose. "Mary…didn't want to hold her at first. She-she looks like…like him." She whispered.

Mark sighed and shook his head. "Those poor girls. And poor Mary, having to deal with four daughters, all on her own. This shouldn't be happening." He hesitated briefly before stating, "What is she going to do?" A careful edge to his voice.

She chewed on her lip. "I think she's going to go to work. How else is she going to care for the girls? Still, you're right; this shouldn't be happening."

"What's her name?"

Leah smiled again, having known the name Mary had picked. There was no doubt in her mind, it was a lovely name. "Margaret. Margaret Hope Daniels. Justin loved the name, and Mary thought that it was perfectly suited.

Mark knew, all to well, how his friend had loved the name. They had discussed the topic a few months before he left; he said that if he ever had another daughter, he wanted her name to be Margaret Hope Daniels.

He wrapped and arm around his wife as they started for Mary's room, Sallie in Leah's free arm. When they arrived at the entrance, Mark couldn't help but smile at the sweet scene. The girls were on either side of Mary, on the bed, and were completely mesmerized by their new baby sister. Even from such a distance, Mark could definitely see how baby Margaret resembled her late father. Her tiny face was a mold of his, and the small tufts of black hair were as dark and soft-looking as her father's. He could only imagine how much more she would grow to look like her father; it was a painful thought.

Mary's head snapped up to her friends, and she smiled wide. "Come and meet the new Daniels." She beckoned to them gently, yet eagerly.

They came in and stood beside her, admiring the beautiful baby that was nestled within her arms. They smiled at each other, and then back at her. "She's beautiful, Mary." Mark said softly.

The exhausted mother managed a laugh as she nodded. "She gets it from her father." Looking back down at her newborn, she brought the girl up slightly and kissed her small, pink forehead. "I love you, my sweet girl. Daddy would have loved you too. But remember, little one, he's always with you." Looking around at all of them, tears embraced her eyes and caressed her cheeks. She tried licking them away, but to no use. "He's with all of us." She whimpered.

The Avery's embraced her and the girls, and the Avery boys were quick to join in, always loving hugs. They knew this was not a typical hug, but they could feel the love than ran through, just as much as the heartache. The one thing they could all feel though, was how it uplifted them. They were stronger together. The past months had been hard, but they were sure now that they could get through this hard time. Mary and her daughters would make it. They would all make it; together.


End file.
